


Old Birds

by Katrina



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrina/pseuds/Katrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Older Altair thinking. Inspired by Nyarlathotep23's artwork Old Birds in an empty nest on Y!Gallery. Feel free to message me for a link if you want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Birds

The man was a warm weight on his chest, and Altair cracked open his eyes even as dry lips brushed on his. Malik, of course, always woke first, but never by much. Altair liked seeing him this way, sleepy and warm, and indulging in a bit of human contact.

They were the leaders of the Assassins, old and wise. At least that is what all the fledglings thought, and if his mouth wasn’t currently occupied, Altair might have laughed. But that sleepy connection was much more important than his need to laugh, and Altair focused on it, hand sliding up over Malik’s side and resting on his shoulder. Old, yes, and he would admit that Malik was good at faking wise, but really it was just common sense anymore. They were old, so they must have been doing something right.

He had learned a few things over the years, even if the cost had been.... The cost had been too much, but it had worked out in the end. Both he and Malik had grown up after that, even if his old friend would never admit that he had needed to.

Feeling lazy and relaxed, Altair brushed his fingertips over skin, feeling old scar and still firm muscle. Hmm, they were due another bout of sparring. Keep the kids on their toes and give them something to aim for. Getting old was not something any Assassins expected, but setting goals were good.

Maybe it would get their sons to put in some practice as well. Perhaps even stop in and say hello. Altair’s sons were always on missions, and it was rare to have both of them in at the same time. Malik’s son was also home for once, his daughter working on setting up a new group to the east. She had sent information that something was going on out there, and Altair knew that they would have to sent someone soon. If nothing else, to spy upon this slowly spreading power. According to the girl, someone was gathering the warring tribes of the East and pulling them together.

She had another mission there, bringing together the network that the Assassins would need now to survive. Someone else would have to go and see just how organized the tribes were.

But that was neither here nor now. Now, there was just the lazy warmth of Malik and the rasp of a slow kiss. When Malik’s wife had died, the older man had simply moved into Altair’s rooms. It was not as if they had not shared a bed before then, and neither of them were used to sleeping alone, really. After Maria had passed, Altair had found himself sharing a bed with two other bodies, more often than not. Jameela was a very good Assassin, and had not begrudged the ties between her husband and the leader of the order. They had grown to be very good friends, and when she died, both men had mourned her.

Feeling the heartbeat against his chest as Malik relaxed against him, Altair smiled, feeling lazy. He was the Grand Master, but he had earned the right to laze about some in the mornings. Both Malik and he had done their share of duty for the Assassins, and their children had stepped up to continue the traditions. Soon, perhaps, he would step aside and let someone younger lead. Malik and he would both be around to offer advice, but young blood was something that the Assassins needed to keep fresh. He would not allow the Brotherhood to grow stagnant.

Later, later. Now was for this, him and Malik and a warm bed. Comfortable contact and slow awakenings. They were old and growing older, at least by Assassin terms. Their wives were gone, and their children were making names for themselves. This, though, this was their time, and Altair planned on making the best of it. Right now, the best was a warm Malik blanket and simple human warmth.

Given the kiss that Malik was starting again, seemed he was of the same mindset.

So maybe they had both gained some wisdom over the years.


End file.
